Tugging hard on her arm, he shoved her up against the wall. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” There was a maniacal quality to his words, a sneering laughter as he pushed her once more.
“You’re hurting me,” she cried, trying but failing to push back against him. Gaining leverage on his large frame was proving pointless. He released his grip on her arm and I felt like I could breathe again. He would leave her alone for now; they’d walk inside and I would walk home and figure out what to do about tomorrow.
When his hand flew in the air and landed with a loud smack against her cheek, that plan went out the window. She fell to the floor on a howling wail. He stood over her, his leg cocked back ready to kick her in the ribs.
“Leave her alone!” I knew what Rebecca had told me about his gun was probably true, but I couldn’t sit there and just let him beat her.
Like he’d just seen a ghost, he stared at me. Eyes wide and mouth agape, he looked like he couldn’t figure out what to say. Rebecca scrambled to her feet, slid behind the door. “Dylan, leave. Please just leave.” I barely heard her words over the blood pounding in my ears, over the adrenaline coursing through my veins.
“She’s right, fag.” He spat the last word, a curse meant to insult, but all it did was enrage me even more. Though he loomed over me, I stood my ground. “Didn’t you get my message?” His head titled to the side; a vicious look of murderous intention transformed his face.
An icy cold chill rushed over me. “Yeah, and I have no intention to listen to you.” I held strong to my conviction, but deep down, I knew I was fighting a losing battle. He was clearly unstable and there was no reasoning with insanity. “You can threaten me all you want and you can pretend Shane wasn’t who he was, but I loved him and he loved me and there’s nothing you can do to change that.” My voice rose in anger as he stepped directly in front of me. In my periphery, I saw Rebecca move away from the door. He turned to her as if he sensed that she would interfere.
“Stay there,” he commanded, and, out of fear, she listened.
His mouth pulled into an ugly sneer as he looked down at me. “Go ahead. Show up tomorrow. See if you can get in.” And then, as if he’d had enough of me, he simply turned and walked away, dragging Rebecca by the arm as if he were some kind of caveman.
When I got home, Dad was waiting for me, but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t sleep at all, and when the sun rose early the next morning, I got ready for Shane’s funeral.
My stomach lurched up in my throat when we pulled into the funeral parlor parking lot. Police cars flanked the building and an officer on each side guarded the entrance. Dad parked the car and turned in his seat. “You guys stay here. Let me see what’s going on.” Before he stepped out of the car, he looked over at Mom, a sad and resigned look on his face.
I watched the whole exchange from the backseat in utter disbelief. Dad began to wave his arms around angrily while the officer tried to keep him calm. He kept turning back to the car, and when he’d look back at the officer, his eyes were full of sorrowful begging. All the officer did was unfold a sheet of paper and shake his head.
Turning away from the officer, Dad pinched the bridge of his nose, and returned to the car. “Dad?”
“I’m sorry. They have an order of protection. You’re not allowed in. Something about slander.” Mom and Dad shook their heads in disbelief. As for me, I wasn’t that surprised. I had a feeling he’d keep me away. I just didn’t know he’d go to this length to do so.
“Let’s just go home then.”
I didn’t want to talk to anyone, so when we got home, I went straight up to my room. For hours, I watched out the window to catch a glimpse of the hearse passing down our block, driving Shane’s body past his home one last time.
It never did.
Exhausted from not having slept at all the night before and from the overwrought emotions of the morning, I spent the rest of that day sleeping. It wasn’t until around three the next morning that I woke.
I left a note for my parents and packed my bag. I just had one more stop to make before I left for good.
The freshly dug dirt was still piled in a mound atop his gravesite. I fell to the ground; all strength vanished the instant I saw his name etched in the cool, grey stone. As if it would bring me closer to him, I traced my shaking fingers over the letters. “I’m sorry…” I said it over and over again as if it would somehow absolve me of my guilt and ease me of my pain.
When I’d cried myself dry and said all the “I’m sorrys” my voice could handle, I stood, brushing the dirt from my jeans. “I love you so much, Shane. I’ll love you forever.”
I had to take the sun rising in the cold, November sky, as some kind of symbol that Shane was, in some way, there with me.
Even though I turned and walked away, I never left him behind.
“Dylan… that was…” Dr. Baker reached for a tissue, blotting away a few tears. “That’s an extremely traumatic thing for anyone one to go through, especially so young.”
Since any kind of response would be pointless, I shrug and check the clock. “You said you didn’t see Reid again until Rebecca’s funeral. You never went back?” she asks when my silence becomes too loud.
“There were times when I had to, holidays, birthdays, things like that, but my parents knew it was too painful for me. So, they never really pushed me. Reid left for college the next year and we just lost touch.” I move across the room and pour a glass of water.
The buzzer from the waiting room surprises us both. “My next appointment,” she explains. As she walks me to the door, she offers her sympathies for what happened to Shane, for the hand I was dealt in his mourning. Before opening the door to dismiss me, she gives me a therapy patient version of a homework assignment. “See if you can’t figure out how everything you’ve shared with me is keeping you from getting where you want to be.”
I pull a face at her. “Isn’t that your job?”
She chuckles at me as she opens the door. “Don’t worry. I have some ideas, but I want to hear yours too. We’ll compare notes next week, okay?” Dutifully, I make my next appointment.
On the way back to work, I decide I’m too distracted to spend the rest of the day in the office. So, I call Reid and tell him I’ll be working from home the rest of the day. We don’t have any appointments or sessions, so I’m not all too concerned about missing the time.
